To Tame a Highland Warrior (26 page)

Grimm couldn’t live with the thought of bringing harm—again—to Caithness and Jillian.

He stopped by the bed, gazed down at her, and watched her with his heart in his eyes.
I love you, Jillian
, he willed to her sleeping form.
Always have, and always will. But I’m Berserk, and you—you’re the best of life. I have an insane old da and a crumbling pile of rocks to call home. It’s no life for a lady
.

He forced his dark thoughts away, scattering them with his formidable will. Sinking into her body was all he wanted to contemplate. These past two days with Jillian had been the best two days of his life. He should be content with that, he told himself.

She rolled over in her sleep, her hand falling palm open, fingers slightly curled. Her golden hair fanned out across the white pillows, her full breasts spilled above the downy linen. Just one more day, he promised himself, and one more blissful, magical, incredible night. Then he’d leave, before it was too late.

Q
UINN AND
R
AMSAY SACKED THE KITCHENS OF
C
AITHNESS
at dawn. Not one piece of fruit, not one slab of meat, not a single savory morsel was spared.

“Christ, I feel like I haven’t eaten solid food in weeks!”

“We damn near haven’t. Broth and bread don’t count as real food.” Ramsay tore off a chunk of smoked ham with his teeth. “I haven’t had an appetite until now. That damn poison made me so sick, I thought I might never want to eat again!”

Quinn palmed an apple and bit into it with relish. Platters were piled haphazardly atop every available surface. The maids would faint when they discovered the men had wiped out all the food that had been prepared for the coming weekend.

“We’ll hunt and replenish.” Quinn felt mildly guilty as his gaze swept the decimated larder. “You up to a bit of hunting, Ram, my man?”

“So long as it’s wearing a skirt,” Ramsay said with a gusty sigh, “and answers to the name of Jillian.”

“I don’t think so,” Quinn replied acerbically. “Perhaps you didn’t notice, but Jillian obviously has a bit of a
tendre
for me. If I hadn’t gotten sick at Durrkesh, I would have proposed marriage and we would be betrothed by now.”

Ramsay took a deep slug of whisky and placed the bottle on the counter with a thump. “You really are dense, aren’t you, de Moncreiffe?”

“Don’t tell me you think it’s you.” Quinn rolled his eyes.

“Of course not. It’s that bastard Roderick. It always has been, ever since we got here.” Ramsay’s dark expression was murderous. “And after what happened two nights ago …”

Quinn stiffened. “What happened two nights ago?”

Ramsay took another swallow, swished it over his tongue, and brooded a silent moment. “Did you notice the long table in the hall is gone, Quinn?”

“Now that you mention it, yes, it is. What happened to it?”

“I saw pieces of it out back behind the bothy. It was shattered down the center.”

Quinn said nothing. He knew of only one man who could shatter a table of such massive proportions with his bare hands.

“I came down yesterday to find the maids sweeping food off the floor. One of the candelabra was wedged into the wall. Someone had a helluva fight in there two nights ago. But nobody has breathed a word about it, have they?”

“What are you saying, Logan?” Quinn asked grimly.

“Just that the only two people who were well enough to dine in the hall two nights ago were Grimm and Jillian. They obviously fought, but today Grimm didn’t seem bitter.
And Jillian, why, the woman has been wreathed in smiles and good humor. Matter of fact, just as a little test, what say we go wake Grimm right now and talk to him about it? That is, if he’s not otherwise occupied.”

“If you’re insinuating that Jillian might be in his chambers, you’re a stupid bastard and I’ll call you out for it,” Quinn snapped. “And maybe there was a fight in the hall between them, but I guarantee you that Grimm is far too honorable to seduce Jillian. Besides, he can’t even bring himself to say a civil word to her. He certainly couldn’t be nice to her long enough to seduce her.”

“You don’t find it curious that just when it seemed like you were making progress with her, you and I get poisoned and put out of the running, but he doesn’t?” Ramsay asked. “I’d say it was suspiciously convenient. I think it’s damned odd that he didn’t get sick too.”

“He didn’t consume any of the poison,” Quinn defended.

“Maybe that’s because he knew what was poisoned in advance,” Ramsay argued.

“That’s enough, Logan!” Quinn snapped. “It’s one thing to accuse him of wanting Jillian. Hell, we all want her. But it’s entirely another to accuse him of trying to kill us. You don’t know a damn thing about Grimm Roderick.”

“Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know him,” Ramsay countered. “Maybe Grimm Roderick pretends to be something he’s not. I, for one, plan to wake him right now and find out.” Ramsay stalked from the room, muttering under his breath.

Quinn shook his head and vaulted after him. “Logan, would you cool your heels—”

“No! You’re so convinced of his innocence, I say let’s make him prove it!” Ramsay took the stairs to the west wing three at a time, and Quinn had to lope to keep up. As
Logan sped down the long corridor, Quinn overtook him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, but Ramsay shook it off.

“If you’re so convinced he wouldn’t do it, what are you afraid of, de Moncreiffe? Let’s just go rouse him.”

“You’re not thinking clearly about this, Ram—” Quinn broke off abruptly as the door to Grimm’s chambers eased opened.

When Jillian slipped out into the hallway, his eyes widened incredulously. There was unequivocally no reason for Jillian to be leaving Grimm’s chambers in the wee hours of the morning but for the reason Ramsay had suggested. She was his lover.

Quinn instantly ducked back, pulling Ramsay with him into the shadowed alcove of a doorway.

Her hair was disheveled, and she wore only a woolen draped about her shoulders. Although it trailed nearly to the floor, it left little doubt that there was nothing beneath it.

“Odin’s balls,” he whispered.

Ramsay favored him with a mocking smile as they lurked in the dark alcove. “Not the honorable Grimm Roderick, right, Quinn?” he whispered.

“That son of a bitch.” Quinn’s gaze lingered on Jillian’s sweet curves as she disappeared down the hallway. The early rays of dawn coming in the tall windows colored his eyes with a strangely crimson glint as he stared at Ramsay.

“Some best friend, eh, de Moncreiffe? He knew you wanted her. He doesn’t even offer her marriage. He just takes it for free.”

“Over my dead body he will,” Quinn vowed.

“Her da brought three men here so she could choose a husband. And what does he do? Both you and I would do
the honorable thing, marry her and give her a name, babes, and a life. Roderick tups her and will likely saunter off into the sunset, and you know it. That man has no intention of wedding her. If he possessed one honorable intention, he would have left her to you or me, men who would do right by her. I’m telling you, you don’t know him as well as you think.”

Quinn scowled, and the minute Jillian disappeared from view, he stalked off muttering beneath his breath.

The day passed in a haze of happiness for Jillian. The only moment it was marred was when she encountered Quinn at breakfast. He was distant and aloof, not his normal self at all. He eyed her strangely, fidgeted over his breakfast, and finally stalked off in silence.

Once or twice she brushed past Ramsay, who was also behaving oddly. Jillian didn’t spare much thought for it; they were probably still suffering the aftereffects of the poison and would be fine in time.

The world was a magnificent place, in her opinion. She was even feeling magnanimous toward her da for having brought her true love back to her. In a burst of generosity she decided he was as wise as she’d once thought. She would wed Grimm Roderick and her life would be perfect.

“W
ELL
?” R
ONIN
M
C
I
LLIOCH DEMANDED
.

Elliott shuffled forward, clutching a sheaf of crisp parchments in his hand. “Tobie did well, milord, although we couldn’t risk moving in too close to Caithness. Your son possesses the same remarkable senses you have. Still, Tobie managed to capture his likeness on several occasions: riding, saving a small boy, and twice with the woman.”

“Let me see.” Ronin thrust an impatient hand at Elliott. He rifled through the pages one by one, absorbing every detail. “He’s a bonny lad, isn’t he, Elliott? Look at those shoulders! Tobie dinna exaggerate, did he?” When Elliott shook his head, Ronin smiled. “Look at that power. My son’s every inch a legendary warrior. The lasses must swoon over him.”

“Aye, he’s a legend, your son is. You should have seen him kill the mountain cat. He cut his own hand to bring on the Berserker rage, to save the child.”

Ronin passed the sketches to the man at his side. Two pairs of ice-blue eyes studied every line.

“By Odin’s spear!” Ronin exhaled slowly as he reached the last two drawings. “She’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Your son thinks so,” Elliott said smugly. “He’s every bit as besotted as you were with Jolyn. She’s ‘the one,’ milord, no doubt about it.”

“Have they …?” Ronin trailed off meaningfully.

“Judging by the wreck Gavrael made of the Greathall, I’d say yes.” Elliott grinned.

Ronin and the man at his side exchanged pleased glances. “The time is at hand. Get with Gilles and start the preparations for him to be comin’ home.”

“Yes, milord!”

The man sitting next to Ronin raised ice-blue eyes to the McIllioch’s. “Do you really think it’s goin’ to happen as the old woman foretold?” Ronin’s brother, Balder, asked softly.

“Cataclysmic changes,” Ronin murmured. “She said this generation would suffer more greatly than any McIllioch, but promised that so, too, would this generation advance, and know greater happiness. The old seer swore that my son would see sons of his own, and I believe that. She vowed that when he chose his mate, his mate would be bringin’ him home to Maldebann.”

“And how will you transcend his hatred for you, Ronin?” his brother asked.

“I doona know.” Ronin sighed heavily. “Maybe I’m hoping for a miracle, that he’ll listen and forgive me. Now that he’s found his mate he may be sympathetic to my plight. He may be capable of understandin’ why I did what I did. And why I let him go.”

“Doona be so hard on yourself, Ronin. The McKane would have followed you to him if you’d gone after him. They were waiting for you to betray his hidin’ place. They know you won’t breed more sons. They doona know I even exist. It’s Gavrael they’re determined to destroy, and the time is quickenin’. If they discover he’s found his mate, they’ll stop at nothin’.”

“I know. He was well hidden at Caithness for years, so I thought it best to leave well enough alone. Gibraltar trained him better than I could have at the time.” Ronin met Balder’s gaze. “But I always thought that at some point he would come home of his own volition; out of curiosity or confusion about what he was if nothing else, and long before now. When he didn’t, when he never once looked west to Maldebann … ah, Balder, I fear I grew bitter. I couldna believe he hated me so completely.”

“What makes you think he’ll be forgivin’ you now?”

Ronin raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “A fool’s fancy? I must believe. Or else I’d have no reason to go on.”

Balder clasped his shoulder affectionately. “You have a reason to go on. The McKane must be defeated once and for all and you must ensure the safety of your son’s sons. That in itself is reason enough.”

“And it will be done,” Ronin vowed.

Grimm spent the day riding, scouring every inch of Caithness for some sign that the McKane had found him. He knew how they operated: They would set up camp on the perimeter of the estate and wait for the right moment, any moment of vulnerability. Grimm rode the entire circumference,
searching for anything: the remains of a recent fire, missing livestock commandeered and slaughtered, word of strangers among the crofters.